13 June 2009

Rain. . . Rain. . .

Clouds swiftly, suspiciously gather together with task.
They begin with a drop, wearing the little sprinkle mask.
All of they sudden they pour their souls out onto you,
Cleansing your soul, making it a whole person new.
Eternal buckets stream down,
On my nose, and all over my town.
Another delivery is made, right from the sky.
Lightning strikes, I don't know how or why.
The exciting, electrifying thrill fills me completely,
As the rain continues to sing, so sweetly.
I listen intently, as I count slowly to two,
Waiting for thunder, hoping it's not close, or maybe, just maybe, I do.

1 comment:

moo! said...

You are such an amazing, creative writer! This poem wowed me! :)
~Meg!